


You lose some and win some

by pagnilagni



Series: Unge Evak [28]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Best buds, Dinner, Gen, kumle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 12:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16660774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagnilagni/pseuds/pagnilagni
Summary: “Okay, so can we cook today?”“We, you say?” He squints his eyes and grins at her.“You! I can do it next time.”“But what should I make, then?”Sana thinks about it for a minute. “Let me decide something this time, then you can decide what I will make next time?”“Only if you promise to cook from scratch. No leftovers from the fridge or the soup Yousef made you the day before.”Shit. Sana bites on her lower lip. She had hoped to get away with it.                                    “Ok…. But nothing complicated, ok? Not more than five ingredients?”Isak traces his index finger over his lip. ”Ok. What should I make?”“I have to think about it”, Sana protests.“If you want me to cook today, you have to decide now! I have to go shopping.”“You have enough time, we are only at school.”“But I have to plan the shopping list.”





	You lose some and win some

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bolomapa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolomapa/gifts).
  * A translation of [Litt svinn må ein rekne med](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633778) by [pagnilagni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagnilagni/pseuds/pagnilagni). 



 (Illustrasjon: @_artvandeley)

Sana and Isak are hanging out at the window next to the staircase, gazing tiredly across the courtyard, where students are making their way to the second class. Isak is on his second cup of coffee, this time from the cafeteria. He takes a sip and looks down on it, scowling. Sana tries to hide a smile, she knows how grumpy he is in the morning. Only two cups, and it’s not even nine o’clock yet, two things adding up to a grumpy morning.

In addition, Even left very early for work today, something which never leaves Isak unaffected. He has reminded her several times that he is wearing both Even’s jacket and … other clothes that belong to him. Sana does not want to think of his boxers, no thanks.

“When are you going to invite me for dinner?” She smirks at him. This has become a tradition, them meeting at each other’s places from time to time. It is actually either Even or Sana’s mom who prepares the food, but today both the mother and Even have gone away. Sana is tempted to try her luck and persuade Isak into treating her into a meal. The worst-case scenario would probably be if he offered her a chicken burger from McDonald’s.

“We’ll do that when Even is back”, he mumbles while looking down at his phone.  
“So you can’t cook yourself?”  
“Of course I can! But it would be nice for you to see Even as well, right?”  
“Yes, but it has been so long since it was just us.  
“Yeah... that’s true.”

She might see a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. She would really like to be together just with him. Talk about school and studies and the future without thinking about a possible comment from the sideline, be that from Even, Yousef or her own mom.  

“Okay, so can we cook today?”  
“ _We_ , you say?” He squints his eyes and grins at her.  
“You! I can do it next time.”  
“But what should I make, then?”  
Sana thinks about it for a minute. “Let me decide something this time, then you can decide what I will make next time?”  
“Only if you promise to cook from scratch. No leftovers from the fridge or the soup Yousef made you the day before.”  
Shit. Sana bites on her lower lip. She had hoped to get away with it.  
“Ok…. But nothing complicated, ok? Not more than five ingredients?”

Isak traces his index finger over his lip. ”Ok. What should I make?”  
“I have to think about it”, Sana protests.  
“If you want me to cook today, you have to decide now! I have to go shopping.”  
“You have enough time, we are only at school.”  
“But I have to plan the shopping list.”

Sana is cracking up with laughter.  “Plan the shopping list! Who are you, and where is Isak? Are you Even in Isak’s skin?”

Isak looks huffily at her. “I _have_  to plan. It saves money.”  
Sana smiles at him. He is cute when he is huffy. “Okay. You will make _kumle_ .”  
“Kumle? What the fuck is that? Some mysterious Moroccan dish? We said no more than five ingredients and in every Moroccan dish there are at least twenty spices!”  
“Kumle is not Moroccan! I thought you were the chronic Norwegian here?” She laughs at his confused face.  
“Kumle are potato balls, Isak. Potato and flour, served with kohlrabi and smoked lamb.”

Isak looks nearly in despair.

“I can bring the meat”, she says comfortingly.  Her mother made a huge portion yesterday, and Sara remembers hearing her talk about how convenient it was with big portions, which one can simply take from the freezer. Sana herself had  just stood there and let it go in one ear and out the other, while she struggled with cutting the carrots in more or less identical slices. “Mom still has some meat. But you need to find the kumle recipe yourself!”

Smiling and humming, she turns around and walks towards her physics class, while Isak stays at the window at the staircase slightly confused, looking after her.

When Sana arrives at Isak’s early in the evening, he is waiting for her in the hallway when she comes up. He is wearing an apron and has a layer of sticky, white stuff on his hands. She looks at it and screws up her nose. “What is this, Isak?” He looks down at his hands and grins. ”Kumle mash, Sana. You are arriving just in time so that you can’t help me anymore.”  
“Puh. I was saved by getting on the wrong tram, obviously.”

“Jerk”, he grins at her. “Come inside. Would you like some tea while you wait? This has to boil for half an hour first.”  
She looks at him. “Boil?”  
“Yes? Is this so weird?”  
“Eh. I’m quite sure that it said _simmer_  in all the recipes I have seen...”  
“Simmer? What the fuck does that mean?”  
“Eh…” Sana does not answer.

“Come on, let’s check.” Isak takes out his phone and goes to google. _"what does simmer mean_ ”  
“Jeeez. _"Calm down, cool down"_. This has nothing to do with mood!” He looks down at the screen. _"let someone smooth one's ruffled feathers"_. Eh, Sana… feathers? This is potatoes? What the heck?” He looks confused at her.

Sana takes up her own phone and opens Messenger. After some chatting back and forth, she looks up. “Yousef says it means to boil at low heat. So no big bubbles, but just below the boiling point. That makes sense, right?”

“Oops.”  
She grins at Isak who is suddenly in a rush. “Shit”, she hears from the kitchen. She kicks off her shoes and ambles behind. The sink is full of potato skins, and white spots of potato juice spangle the whole bench. A pile of dirty bowls is next to the stove, where a big pot is boiling at full heat. Gray, sticky foam is running down the side of the boiler. Isak is standing in front of the oven, desperately trying to get the pot off the heat. Sana takes a measuring jug, fills it with cold water and pours into the pot. The boiling stops and the gray surface calms down.

Isak takes a ladle and stirs in the pot. He slowly lifts up a lump of potato balls sticking together. Without saying a word, he looks at them. “Shit”, he finally says.  
Sana is struggling to stay serious.  
“Sana! Don’t laugh! I swear, these were nice balls before, exactly the right size...” Sana raises an eyebrow: “And what size was that?”  
“Like balls, why?” Isak answers. He has just realized what he said and turns bright red. “Well, about like... meat balls?”  
Sana can’t hold herself any longer and bursts out laughing.

They look skeptically into the pot, while Isak slowly stirs around. The lump is floating in a thick, gray mass which draws out like slime gone wrong when he lifts it with the ladle.  
“We can’t eat this, can we?”  
Sana looks from the slimy pot to Isak. “Actually, I should say yes, just to see you eat it. But...” She looks at the surface again. The solid pieces move away from each other as Isak stirs. “This will end with you persuading me into trying it as well, and I don’t want that.”  
She looks at him. “Eh… we can just order take-away?”

Isak scoffs. “No, Sana, that’s above the limit!” He turns to the bench. “Look, we have boiled potatoes. And we have carrots and kohlrabi, because that’s what Even’s mom said we should have as sides.”  
“You called your mother-in-law?” Sana can’t help grinning.  
“Yes? She is really good at cooking.” Isak doesn’t seem to notice the disbelief in Sana’s voice. ”Even’s dad makes a really good fish soup, by the way, I can ask him if you can have the recipe. So easy that even you can do it, Sana!” He pokes at her. ”It should be enough to impress even Yousef. Fish soup and freshly baked bread. Talk about love at a high level!”  
“Ehhh…” Sana looks skeptical. She knows he is going to follow up on that later.  
“Believe me, it is dead easy. Carrot, leek and onion, cream and coconut milk, and you just add four pieces of salmon filet which you have divided in four quarters, then you let it boil at low heat for five minutes.” He points at her: “Look, boil at low heat. Why didn’t they just say so in the recipe instead for this simmering thing?”

Sana shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know.” She looks at the stove again. “What are we going to do with this soup? You can’t leave it like this until Even comes home. He is going to hold it against you for the rest of your life.”  
Isak smiles at her. “So you believe in us?” he asks softly.  
“Hm?” She doesn’t get what he means.  
“You believe that Even and I are in it for the long run? Because he is never going to forget this thing here.” He waves towards the pot.  
“Oh.” She looks at him. “If you just don’t serve this to him, it’s going to be fine, anyway.” She looks at him for a few seconds and smiles. Isak puts his arm around her shoulder and draws her toward him. “I am not going to serve this. Can you help me flush it down the toilet?”

Afterwards, they fry the potatoes with the meat Sana brought, and serve it with carrots and kohlrabi. “This was also good”, she says between chewing.  
“This was nice. Do you know what your mother has done with the meat? It was incredibly tender.”  
She looks at him. “I have absolutely no idea. I guess it’s best if we get Even to ask my Mom, because I doubt you would understand anything at all.”  
He smiles cheekily at her. “Well, I am the master chef. I know everything about cooking food.”  
“Right.”

“I wonder who came up with making kumle the first time?” Isak ponders, looking across the bench at all the dirty bowls.  “This is at least three times as much work as just boiling potatoes.”  
“It was probably  _“food by accident”_ , like so many other things”, Sana suggests. “A stupid girl who grated raw potatoes for making mash instead of using boiled potatoes.”  
“Just like with the first smoked salmon, where the fire went out before the fish was fried, so that it only got the smoky taste?”  
“Or those guys who forgot a trout under a solid board and thought it was a good idea to eat it after several weeks, when it was fermented.”  
“What about those who dried the fish before putting them into lye in washing buckets?”  
Sana looks at him and frowns. “What?”  
“Lutefisk. Seriously, that’s lye and fish.” He makes a face. “Those who did that should have gone to the naughty chair  for a time-out instead of serving it as dinner.  
Sana shakes her head. “You lose some and win some.”  
“You have to count on that in a Darwinian society”, Isak says.

He goes to the cupboard. “Do you want coffee?”  
“Yes, please.”  
Isak rummages around in the shelves. “Damn.” He turns to Sana with a glass of instant coffee in his hands. “We have only instant coffee. Is that fine?”  
Now it’s Sana’s turn to make a face. “Really? Who came up with the idea of making superstrong coffee, afterwards freezing it, drying it with hot heat in a vacuum chamber and getting rid of the liquid by condensation? And then mix it with water and drink it?”  
“A guy from New Zealand, I guess, a David Strang.” He shrugs.  
Sana looks at him sceptically. “A strange guy, with other words.”  
“He was probably the first one to say that _mornings are for coffee and comtemplation_ , too.”  
“But not for instant coffee”, she says determined. “Do you have tea?”  
Isak turns to the cupboard again. “We have tea, yes.” He hands her a package of Yellow Label.

With a sigh she takes it. “Here we go again… The lesser of two evils”, she mumbles and puts the teabag in her cup.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I promised to publish at least one of the telethon fundraising fics in English, and I think this may be the one. In retrospect not the easiest one, since it deals with quite a lot of very local traditions and strange words, but thanks to Bolomapa for the translatiom and Mermaidsmermen for cleanup, I think the result is pretty good! 
> 
> Thanks a lot to Bolomapa for stepping up and asking if she could translate it - I was really impressed by the first draft, and in this final work there are really not many changes, just a few words here and there. 
> 
> To those not aware of it: Bolomapa is German, and I think she started learning Norwegian through Skam. The original versiopn of this story was written in Nynorsk, the "other" variety of Norwegian (like in "Lovleg", for those having a hangup on Norwegian teen series). The natives claiming nynorsk is too hard could ponder a bit about that, I guess ;)
> 
> So I gift this to you this time, for being one of my most active readers ❤️ 
> 
> Also thanks a lot to MermaidsandMermen for the final language cleanup. Even a German and a Norwegian may need a little help from time to time. From a Swede.... (who lives in Britain, so that helps!)
> 
> For more information about kumle, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raspeball (it has several names). It is one of those dishes with local variations both in recipes and side dishes, so don't think you know them all when you know one...
> 
> And here is my fundraiser, should anyone feel like donating for the charity. https://www.spleis.no/project/51899
> 
> It's called Church City Mission, and despite theif name, they do an amazing work for people in need in Norway. They absolutely don't discriminate based on anything neither for who they help nor their employers/volunteers. My first experience with them was work with AIDS/HIV+ 25 years ago.


End file.
